Page 13 of Over the Limit

Does that make me a bad person? Or does it make me human?

Human.

It has to.

There’s no harm with a little innocent flirting. There’s no harm when you do it to see if your boyfriend notices. News flash. He didn’t. And maybe he didn’t because he’s the king of flirting himself. The prince of being oblivious.

Especially when it comes to me, it seems.

And yes, this is beginning to sting more than it used to. Or maybe I’m just realizing I deserve more. Better. That what I thought was equal is far fucking from it.

It’s Skylar’s fault.

I smile at the thought of my best friend and everything I saw when I visited her last month.

The longing glances across the room her new husband would give her. The subtle touches they shared without even realizing it. The laughter between them—God, there wasn’t a tense moment in that house.

And yes, they were in front of me so I’m sure they were on their best behavior, but you can’t fake the looks you give when you think no one is watching.

I left there sad. I started making comparisons I shouldn’t be making.

But I deserve that too. All of it. And it’s becoming obvious—and has been for some time but maybe I just didn’t want to see it—that Rossi isn’t the man giving that level of affection and attention to me.

Is that why Lachlan’s kindness the other night affected me more than it should have? Is that why I flirted with him today?

An engine rumbles somewhere on the track. Somewhere beyond the wall of the garages I can see from my window in Formula 1’s own hospitality suite in the paddock.

Its sound is comforting to me. A soundtrack to my every day and to the job that I love.

And fittingly enough, I’m looking at the Apex garage as I think.

But if the flirting were harmless, Blair, then why are you sitting at your desk staring at graphics for the upcoming event and zeroing in on Lachlan’s image?

Because he was gruff.

Because he acted like the moment outside the party never happened.

Because when he met your eyes earlier in the garage it made your tummy feel weird when it shouldn’t have.

But there’s no denying that it did.

And because since then, you keep replaying the moment in your mind. The look between us that lasted a little too long. The bob of his Adam’s apple when his gaze flickered down to my lips. My desire to look back at him even after I forced myself to look the other way.

“Carmichael?” I look up and my boss, Paolo, is standing in the doorway of my portable office. “Have a minute?”

“Yes. Of course.”

He motions for me to follow him. I rise from my desk while fighting that sinking feeling in my stomach that anyone being unexpectedly summoned by their boss can understand.

Within moments, I’m seated in the conference room before him with his clasped hands and stoic expression. That feeling of dread only grows heavier as my mind races a million miles an hour over the events of the past few weeks.

Did I mess something up? Is it my turn to be let go because of this whole department’s overhaul?

“Is everything okay?” I finally ask when Paolo continues to study the papers in front of him instead of me.

He looks up, his smile guarded and placating.

My chest constricts.